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LIVE EARLY ON AMAZON! Read an excerpt from I Could Never by Penelope Ward.  You can also check out my spoiler-free review and get ready to one-click this emotion-packed enemies-to-lovers standalone romance on August 21st!  

Title: I Could Never

Author: Penelope Ward

Genre: Standalone Contemporary Romance

Tropes: Forbidden Romance/Enemies to Lovers

Release Date: August 21, 2023

BLURB

From New York Times bestselling author Penelope Ward comes a new forbidden, enemies-to-lovers story…

It all started with an unexpected phone call.

Two years after my fiancé passed away in an accident, his father died suddenly, leaving Brad’s adult, special-needs brother with no one to care for him.

The next thing I knew, I was on a cross-country drive to New Hampshire where I’d be moving in to look after Scottie until I could get him into a group home.

The last thing I ever expected?

I wouldn’t be taking care of him alone.

Josh Mathers, my fiance’s best friend—who also happened to be my sworn enemy—insisted he was the better person for the job. He told me to go back to California, and I told him where he could stick that demand.

Our disdain for each other wasn’t anything new. It dated back to a text I’d accidentally read years ago.

We hated each other. But we both loved Scottie, so neither of us budged.

Now we were living together in a tiny house—with one available bedroom. Thank goodness it was only temporary.

Over time, I realized the broody jerk I thought I knew was different than I’d imagined.

I found myself slowly growing attached to someone I once considered the enemy…and growing attracted to him. 

Sure, both of us were guilt-ridden over Brad. We were also two grown people with pent-up frustration toward one another—stuck in a cabin in the woods.

But this was Josh.

I could never.

GOODREADS LINK: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/186725244

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SPOILER-FREE REVIEW:

EXCERPT

 

Copyright © 2023 by Penelope Ward

 

Josh sat at the table, casually having coffee as I walked into the house after my drive home from the salon. The smell of cigarettes emanated from him. He hadn’t smelled like that since the first day he arrived.

“Where’s Scottie?” I asked.

“In his room,” he answered without making eye contact.

I stated the obvious. “You smell like smoke.”

“Must be the firewood.” He brought his mug to his mouth.

“Bullsh*t. The pellet stove doesn’t emit any fumes.”

“Yeah. I caved and had one. Big deal.” He pointed toward the door. “I did it outside, though, while keeping an eye on Scottie through the window.”

“You’d been doing so well. What happened?”

He still wasn’t looking at me, and instead stared straight ahead. “Just human, I guess.”

Then something in front of him on the table caught my attention: pieces of ripped pages piled atop…my journal.

A rush of adrenaline shot through me. “Why do you have that?”

“It’s apparently your diary.”

“I’m quite aware of that.” My heart began to pound. “You were snooping in my room?”

He shot daggers at me. “Think, Carly. Of the two guys in this house, who is the one more likely to have been ransacking your room?”

“You were supposed to be watching him while I was at the salon,” I yelled.

“God forbid I take a piss in peace. Is it not bad enough that I’m showering with him now? Getting my balls tugged?”

I wanted to laugh, but this moment was far from funny.

“Scottie ripped those pages out?”

“The notebook is bright orange, like his iPad cover. Probably caught his attention. The drawer next to your bed was open, so he must have gone in there. I assume that’s where you kept it. Admittedly, I’d been letting him hang out in your room, but you sometimes do, too. I went to check on him, make sure he wasn’t doing anything bad, and found those pages strewn about.” A vein popped in his neck.

Josh was angry. Why? I should’ve been the angry one.

“Did you read it?”

“I only happened to see what was on the pages he ripped. I didn’t read anything else once I figured out what the hell it was.”

This is bad. Starting to sweat, I asked, “But how much did you see?”

He stood up from his seat and slowly approached me. With each step he took toward me, I took one back. When we could go no farther, he placed his arms on either side of me, leaning his hands against the wall. And I forgot how to breathe.

Fear. Arousal. Embarrassment. You name it, I was feeling it right now. Every emotion hit me at once.

His breath grazed my face. “How much did I actually see?” He paused. “Enough to know you think I’m an evil pig.”

Ugh. No. Now his anger made sense.

When he backed away, I walked over to the ripped pages on the table and sifted through them.

“It’s the last one, for reference,” he noted.

I read what I’d written the other night.

 

 

AUTHOR BIO

 

Penelope Ward is a New York Times, USA Today and #1 Wall Street Journal bestselling author of contemporary romance.

 

She grew up in Boston with five older brothers and spent most of her twenties as a television news anchor. Penelope resides in Rhode Island with her husband, son, and beautiful daughter with autism.

 

With over two million books sold, she is a 21-time New York Times bestseller and the author of over thirty books. Her novels have been translated into over a dozen languages and can be found in bookstores around the world.

 

 

AUTHOR LINKS

 

Website: https://penelopewardauthor.com

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/penelopewardauthor

Facebook Group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/PenelopesPeeps

Instagram: http://instagram.com/PenelopeWardAuthor

TikTok: https://www.tiktok.com/@penelopewardofficial

Twitter: https://twitter.com/PenelopeAuthor

Read an excerpt from Moody by Penelope Ward.   Moody is not only on my Best of 2022 list; it's one of this summer's hottest reads! Moody is a standalone forbidden romance.

Title: Moody

Author: Penelope Ward

Genre: Standalone Contemporary Romance

Release Date: August 22, 2022

BLURB

From New York Times bestselling author Penelope Ward, comes a new standalone novel.

The day I showed up to Dax Moody’s sprawling home, I had no idea what was coming.

As a traveling massage therapist, I was used to entering the houses of strangers.

But this assignment was different from any before it.

From the outside, I’d correctly assumed the owner was rich. What I didn’t realize was that he would be younger than I’d imagined, single, stunningly gorgeous, and mysterious.

Despite the fact that Dax had booked a massage, it never actually happened, since our first appointment was unexpectedly cut short by a comedy of errors.

Certain I’d never see him again after that day, I’d done nothing but think about the captivating man.

To my surprise, he called a second time. That appointment, we talked a lot, developing a stronger connection. But once again, there was no actual massage.

The man I now affectionately called “Moody” kept calling me to come back.

It took three times before I finally gave him the massage he’d ordered. Let’s just say it was challenging to keep things professional. I was extremely attracted to Dax, and by that time, I was falling hard.

Eventually, I’d find out why he’d been so aloof, the reason why he and I could never be together.

Our story was supposed to end there, but it didn’t.

Instead, I was left perpetually longing for a forbidden man.

GOODREADS LINK: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/61440501

BOOKBUB LINK: https://www.bookbub.com/books/moody-by-penelope-ward

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EXCERPT

Copyright © 2022 Penelope Ward

“What do you do exactly?”

“I…stand beside you and rub my hands into your skin and work to get some of the knots out of your muscles.”

He shook his head. “No. I meant, what do you do? Is this your full-time gig?”

Is that an insult? “Yes. I went to school for massage after college, and I make a good living. Being a massage therapist is not something you do on the side. It’s a great, fulfilling career in and of itself,” I said defensively.

“I didn’t mean to imply it wasn’t.” He fidgeted with his watch, which looked like it cost more than my car.

I blew out a breath. “I do have other aspirations, but this pays the bills and allows me to put some money away, too. I’m currently saving for a trip to Europe.”

“I see.” He stared out the window, almost looking as though he wanted to escape.

What’s with this guy? “Look...I can leave if you’re not comfortable.”

“No.” He walked over to a cabinet and took out a bottle of some kind of liquor. “I just need something to take the edge off.” He poured himself a glass of amber-colored liquid.

I stared at his big, masculine hands. “Well, this is a first.”

“A first what?” he asked.

“The first time a client has ever had to relax before a relaxing massage.” When I laughed, I accidentally snorted.

His eyes narrowed. “What the hell was that?”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to snort. That happens sometimes when I’m nervous. It just comes out.”

“Why are you nervous?”

“Maybe your attitude is rubbing off on me.”

He chugged the alcohol and slammed the glass down. “I’m sorry. I don’t know how to relax. It’s my nature. Even when I’m supposed to be freaking relaxing...the thought of relaxing stresses me out.”

I nodded. “That’s actually a real thing. It’s called relaxation-induced anxiety.”

He chuckled. “Thanks for the diagnosis.”

“I used to be like you. I’d get panic attacks from the quiet when I tried to meditate.”

He licked the side of his mouth. “I suppose that defeats the purpose.”

“Exactly. And sitting still, like in the hair salon or dentist’s chair, used to make me panicky when I was younger.”

“Younger? You’re pretty young. How long have you been doing this massage thing?” he asked.

“A couple of years.”

“What made you get into it?”

“I wanted to make people feel good. And it doesn’t bore me. I never have to be in one place.”

“Does it pay well? How much of the fee do you get to keep?”

My eyes narrowed. “You ask a lot of questions.”

“Well, maybe I need to get comfortable with you before I let you put your hands all over me.”

For some reason that comment rubbed me the wrong way. Let me put my hands on him? As if it was a privilege? (As if he could read my mind and sense my attraction? Ugh.)

I raised my voice. “I thought you told the company someone recommended me. Why are you so apprehensive?”

“Okay.” He sighed, scrubbing his hand over his face. “Let’s get this over with. What do I do?”

Jesus. He’s wound tight. “Take off your shirt and lie down on the table. You can leave your pants on or take them off.”

He let out a guttural laugh. “Take my pants off?”

“Yes. That’s actually customary. But it’s always the client’s choice. I can leave the room, if you wish, while you undress. There’s a towel to cover yourself. But you can totally leave your pants on, too.”

“I will be leaving my pants on, thanks.”

“Okay. Just make sure you take the stick out of your ass one way or the other.”

He glared at me but finally cracked a slight smile. I’d take it.

I laughed. “In all seriousness, just breathe. That’s all you need to worry about.” I took a deep breath in, willing myself to take my own advice.

Dax slowly pulled his shirt over his head, once again granting me a view of his rippled muscles. There wasn’t an inch of anything soft on his body. I turned away suddenly when I caught my eyes lingering a little too long.

He then lay down stomach-first on the table and within seconds, I heard the pitter-patter of paws and the clanking of a metal collar coming from down the hall.

A large English sheepdog pushed through the door and entered the room, barking profusely at the sight of me. Then he jumped up on the table and landed on Dax’s back.

“Damn it, Winston!” Dax yelled.

I didn’t even know a dog that big could jump so high. The dog shot me the evil eye. This house is just full of welcoming people.

“Hello,” I said awkwardly.

He growled. It seemed Doggy was just as extra as his owner.

“Get off me, you fluffernutter!” Dax groaned.

The dog kept growling at me while I covered my mouth to keep from laughing. “Why is he so angry?” I asked, trying to stifle my amusement.

“He’s protective to a fault. He was napping upstairs when you arrived. I hoped he’d stay sleeping. I hadn’t planned on him coming down, although I should’ve.”

Dax sat up and somehow got the beast of a dog off him. He hopped down off the table. “I’ll be right back,” he said, guiding Winston out of the room and down the hall. The sound of the collar disappeared into the distance.

Left alone for a moment, I exhaled and wandered over to a shelf that displayed various things, including a large, white seashell that seemed completely out of place, given the room’s otherwise masculine vibe. It was beautiful. Remembering what my mother had told me when I was little, I lifted the shell and placed it against my ear in an attempt to hear “the ocean.” Met with the ambient noise that resonated from within, I closed my eyes and smiled.

“Please don’t touch that,” Dax called from behind me.

Shaken by his abrupt tone, I jerked, and the shell slipped from my fingers and crashed to the ground. 

He let out a jarring shriek.

My hands shook. “I’m so sorry... I...” I bent to clean up the pieces, but he bolted to stop me.

“Don’t touch anything!” His tone was grating.

“Why? It’s my fault,” I insisted.

“Please just get up,” he commanded in an even harsher tone.

Burning with embarrassment, I stared down at the mess. That’s when I realized something had fallen out of the shell.

AUTHOR BIO

Penelope Ward is a New York Times, USA Today and #1 Wall Street Journal bestselling author of contemporary romance.

She grew up in Boston with five older brothers and spent most of her twenties as a television news anchor. Penelope resides in Rhode Island with her husband, son, and beautiful daughter with autism.

With over two million books sold, she is a 21-time New York Times bestseller and the author of over thirty books. Her novels have been translated into over a dozen languages and can be found in bookstores around the world.

AUTHOR LINKS

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/penelopewardauthor

Facebook Group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/PenelopesPeeps

Instagram: http://instagram.com/PenelopeWardAuthor

TikTok: https://www.tiktok.com/@penelopewardofficial

Twitter: https://twitter.com/PenelopeAuthor

OTHER BOOKS BY PENELOPE WARD

The Assignment

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AU: https://amzn.to/3cnJwkk

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The Aristocrat

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CA: https://amzn.to/3kIPGMq

AU: https://amzn.to/3mPEkZt

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The Anti-Boyfriend

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CA: https://amzn.to/3lyC2ek

AU: https://amzn.to/31HFHyl

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Audio: https://adbl.co/3l3jjr6

See more books here: http://penelopewardauthor.com/books

Before I Let Go, an all-new poignant second chance romance and the first book in the new Skyland Series from USA Today bestselling and RITA® Award-winning author Kennedy Ryan is coming November 15th, and we have your first look inside! 

Synopsis:

Their love was supposed to last forever. But when life delivered blow after devastating blow, Yasmen and Josiah Wade found that love alone couldn’t solve or save everything.

It couldn’t save their marriage.

Yasmen wasn’t prepared for how her life fell apart, but she's finally starting to find joy again. She and Josiah have found a new rhythm, co-parenting their two kids and running a thriving business together. Yet like magnets, they’re always drawn back to each other, and now they’re beginning to wonder if they’re truly ready to let go of everything they once had.

Soon, one stolen kiss leads to another . . . and then more. It's hot. It's illicit. It's all good—until old wounds reopen. Is it too late for them to find forever? Or could they even be better, the second time around?

Reserve your copy today! 

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Keep reading for your first look inside Before I Let Go

The dress’s zipper stubbornly stays put at the middle of my back.

Screw it.

I’ll ask the hostess to zip me up.

I grab my stuff and leave the bathroom just as the outer office door opens and Josiah walks in. His glance skitters over me, starting with my hair and sliding to my bare toes.

“Sorry. I didn’t realize you were in here,” he says.

Josiah’s face is interesting enough to make handsome look mundane, though the man is undeniably fine. The kind of fine that makes you lose your train of thought mid sentence and bite your lip. Gorgeous dark skin gleams, pulled taut over the high sculpted bones of his face. To be so controlled, nearly austere, there is something boundless about his presence. Standing here with him, that energy, an amalgamation of ambition and audacity and swagger, swirls around us in the office. It’s like being corked into a bottle with a typhoon.

His brows lift, querying. I’m staring.

“Oh.” I turn my back to him, as much to recover my composure as to get my zipper up. “It’s stuck. Can ya help?”

He doesn’t answer, and his steps are so quiet I barely hear him cross the room, so the heat of his body warming my exposed skin startles me. The backs of his fingers brush over my spine as he pulls the zipper. It doesn’t budge at first, so he has to tug. Even just that whisper of a touch reminds my skin how to goose-bump. I glance over my shoulder and up, my breath

hitching when our eyes collide. The air around us practically crackles, charged with a familiar current I’d forgotten was even possible.

He clears his throat and slides the zipper to the top. “There you go.”

I turn to face him and am unprepared for how close he stands. I’m barefoot and my view narrows to the broad chest and shoulders of the man in front of me. We’re not alone like this often anymore, leading separate lives that only intersect at our kids and our business. Kassim and Deja are usually around, or staff, friends, coaches, teachers. It’s rarely just us. We used to know each other better than anyone. Now I’m not even sure what he watches in the little free time he has away from this place, or if he even watches TV at all.

“Have you seen Ozark?” I ask.

The thick line of his brows dips. “Nah. Should I?”

“It’s one of the best shows I’ve seen in a really long time. The acting, directing. The writing is stellar.” I’m rambling. I want to shove a sock in my mouth to make it stop running.

“I’ll have to, uh . . . check it out.” He glances at the door. “I need to get back.”

“Yeah.” I reach into the bottom of my suit bag to grab my green heels, bending to slip them on. “I gotta go too.”

He runs a thorough glance from my head to my shoes. “You look . . . nice.”

“Nice?” I scoop up the suit bag, now stuffed with my clothes, and speed to the door, grinning over my shoulder. “Pfftt. I look amazing.”

He shakes his head, allowing a small smile. “You look amazing. Have a good time.”

“I’ll try not to be out too late. And don’t let the kids stay up all night, Si. They have school tomorrow.”

“Like I’m the pushover parent.”

We both know he is, so I just stare at him until his smile broadens to that startling brightness that will snatch your breath if you let it. “Get outta here. I’ll see you at the house.”

The house.

Not home. Not the dream home we worked for and fantasized about for years. Now it’s just the house where the kids and I live. Josiah’s in the same neighborhood, but a few streets over. I’m not sure why my thoughts keep revisiting the past tonight when my reflection, my mindset, everything has “future” written all over it.

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Cover Art and Design by Natasha Cunningham

Check out Kennedy’s interview with Entertainment Weekly >> https://bit.ly/3PgLkdS

About Kennedy Ryan

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